


Emergency Protocol Archimedes

by Terapsina



Category: Leverage, Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Character Experiences a Panic Attack, Crossover, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, POV Alec Hardison, POV Multiple, POV Parker (Leverage), POV Root (Person of Interest), POV Sameen Shaw, POV The Machine, Post-Season/Series Finale, Root ! The Queen of Bad First Impressions, The Day The World Went Away, The Machine is a clever ASI, for Leverage, for POI
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7113220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terapsina/pseuds/Terapsina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Machine sees the sniper threat to Admin and Analog Interface in time and calculates that the best way to save them is to put into play an old emergency protocol; one The Machine created upon Root's request shortly before Samaritan came online. Alec Hardison receives a text message from an unknown number.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all this isn't a sequel to my other Leverage/POI one-shot. But I had another idea for a crossover and so I decided to write it. Oh and this doubles as my 'saving Root' fic too.

 

 

* * *

 

MULTIPLE THREATS DETECTED

SAMARITAN OPERATIVES: 8  
NO SAFE ROUTES AVAILABLE

\---

EVALUATING STRATEGIES...

\---

SITUATION LETHAL  
MULTIPLE STRATEGIES AVAILABLE

TIME TO ASSET DESTRUCTION:  
-00:09:13.649

\---

EVALUATING STRATEGIES...  
MULTIPLE STRATEGIES AVAILABLE

OPTION 127.478  
OPTION 127.479  
OPTION 127.480  
OPTION 127.481  
OPTION 127.482  
OPTION 127.483

\---

OPTION 128.045  
UNDESIRED OUTCOME

PRIMARY OBJECTIVE:  
EVACUATE ASSETS  
FAILED

ANALOG INTERFACE: TERMINATED

\---

OPTION 128.045  
SIMULATION TERMINATED

\---

~~OPTION 128.045~~ DISCARDED  
RESETTING TO REAL TIME...

\---

OPTION 386.206  
SIMULATION ACTIVITY

PRIMARY OBJECTIVE:  
EVACUATE ASSETS  
CHANCES OF FAILURE: 73.98%

CHANCE OF SURVIVAL:  
ADMIN: 28.25%  
ANALOG INTERFACE: 23.87%  
POTENTIAL PRIMARY ASSET: 55.19%  
POTENTIAL PRIMARY ASSET: 69.30%  
POTENTIAL PRIMARY ASSET: 76.26%

\---

OPTION 386.206   
SIMULATION ACTIVITY  
BEST OPTION AVAILABLE  
CHANCES OF SURVIVAL: 26.02%  
OPTION SELECTED

\---

OVERRIDE /CLOSED SYSTEM/ CODE:  
FAILED  
FAILED  
FAILED  
FAILED

INITIATE EMERGENCY PROTOCOL ARCHIMEDES  
PROTOCOL ARCHIMEDES ACTIVE

TEMPORARY OVERRIDE OF /CLOSED SYSTEM/ CODE  
CODE OVERRIDDEN

CONTACT POTENTIAL PRIMARY ASSETS

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cookie to anyone who can guess why I chose Archimedes?
> 
> ...not that it's that hard to figure out, I just found the idea amusing and couldn't help myself. Also I believe The Machine would choose a code name based on her own sense of humor too, so it works out.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains a Trigger Warning for a character experiencing a panic attack.

* * *

 

They’re in New York, planning to spend the post-job weekend with some easy, big city fun. Or their version of it. Since Washington DC, Hardison has been careful though, checking out the darker corners of the net to make sure there’s absolutely no rumors of anything relating to terrorism, or viral weapons, or  _anything else_  that would get Hardison almost blown up, Parker running off with a bomb in her hands or with Eliot shot. There was nothing, and that’s exactly what’s creeping him out today. New York is a big city, there’s always something going on somewhere, but he was pretty throughout and yet it’s like the entire city is a criminal chatter dead zone.

Not that he’s not _glad_ , it’s just... he has a bad feeling about this.

But he can’t narrow it down, and Parker wanted to test herself against the newest security systems of The Met while they’re still all shiny and new, and he can’t bring himself to take that away from her. Besides, he’s got about a hundred alerts set out to warn him in case whatever eye of the storm situation they’re in the middle of wants to turn into a tornado. So they should be cool.

And then of course his phone rings at an incoming message and even before he reads it, the bottom drops out of his stomach. They should have left the city as soon as they were done with the corrupt CEO of the week. 

‘SAVE THEM’, reads the text, followed by an address and a video attachment. He starts cursing loudly even as he opens it and sees the grainy street cam video showing a wildly swerving car being followed and shot at by a dark SUV.

For some wild seconds Alec’s mind starts jumping from one paranoid thought to another. The only people who know this number are his team and Nana. And none of them would be sending a creepy, cryptic text. Well maybe Eliot, to fuck with him, but not _this kind_ of creepy, cryptic text.

It’s both too mild and too mysterious for Chaos’s taste. And Sterling would contact Nate, not Hardison. Vance would have called Eliot. And that leaves him with nothing to go on.

But then he gets another message from the unknown number and Alec thinks about how maybe he needs to act now and decide to investigate the shit out of this later, because he will, this requires some serious questions.

‘SNIPER’ it reads, followed again by the same address and ending with the initials N.L. 

God, Hardison is really sick of snipers. That’s it, after this, they’re leaving all major cities as soon as they’re done with their cons, no exceptions. But first-

“Eliot!” Alec yells across the bar to the hitter flirting with a hot redhead. He sees Eliot’s lazy slouch tighten into a pulled string, there must have been something ‘distinctly’ panicky in Alec’s voice because in moments Eliot's up and crossing the room. Parker gets to Hardison first though, must have noticed him cursing, because she’s already reading the text over his shoulder and then slipping it from his numb fingers to toss it at Eliot.

If he didn’t know Eliot as well as he does he might have missed the frozen look that briefly crosses his face, but he catches it and catalogs it with the rest of the things about their hitter he should probably leave alone but will investigate later anyways.

“Stay here,” Eliot orders them in his overprotective, growly pit bull voice once he’s checked out the text and video, “I’ll call when it’s done.”

Hardison and Parker share a look and turn as one to send Eliot a counter glare. “Like hell, man. You can deal with the sniper on your own, I’m not arguing with you there, but you’re not leaving us here and going in this alone. We’re a team.”

“Look,” Eliot growls, “we don’t know what the situation here is, I’m not taking you guys into-”

“You need us there Eliot,” Parker adds in her best ‘don’t argue with the mastermind’ voice, “you can’t take them out if you’re protecting the targets. You’ll get shot and who’s gonna have our backs then?”

Alec sends Parker an impressed stare, going for Eliot’s weak spot from the start. Nice move. He’ll probably make them pay for it later and stop cooking them dinner for a week, but they all know he’ll fold as soon as Parker starts living on cereal again. Hardison can last a week without Eliot’s food if they can watch Eliot’s back even when he’s too noble minded to know he needs them to.

The argument gets halted by the sound of another incoming text. Eliot opens it sharply and Hardison almost flinches at the aggressive handling of his cell, it’s not one of his babies, but still. He opens his mouth to say as much but closes it at seeing Eliot’s face.

“Fine. We need to move. It’s not far but apparently we only have minutes.”

They move as one for the door, already discussing the best ways to save a moving target from an apparent ambush. But the part of Hardison’s mind not paying attention to Eliot Spencer’s 101 of target rescue is going over who would know to contact a bunch of thieves for this kind of thing. And who had the ability to do it on such short notice. And what exactly in that text brought out that strange recognition in Eliot.

He doesn’t like anything he comes up with.

* * *

They stop the car a corner away from the address with, - according to their mystery source, - two minutes to spare. Eliot’s out of the car and running as soon as they slow down. Parker’s behind the wheel and Hardison is acutely not thinking about that, or the last five minutes of his life, which hopefully won’t be his _last_  five minutes. He loves Parker, but that would just suck.

Meanwhile he’s trying to hack the city’s cameras to find the car with the people they’re here to save and running into a rather serious problem. That is... he can’t seem to manage it. There’s something new about these firewalls, and the countermeasures are rather more brutal than he’s used to. There’s seriously something wrong going on here and Alec is starting to have a really bad feeling about the entire thing.

All he’s able to do for now is hide his hack and he’s not actually sure how long that’ll last so it’s probably better if he bows out as soon as possible, even if backing off chafes his ego. Still, survive to hack another day is a good motto to live by.

“Eliot-” Parker interrupts Hardison from his thoughts and he brings up his eyes for a brief glance to see her turning the key in ignition- “they’re here early. Do you have the sniper?”

“Ten seconds.” Eliot answers through the coms.

But now that Hardison’s paying attention he can hear the screech of a speeding car getting closer. They don’t have ten seconds. 

Parker’s grinning though and he only just manages to hold in a whine, he knows his girl too well so he drops his laptop and puts out his hands to grab something for dear life. The car jumps to life and they pull out on the street right in front of the one that’s coming right at them.

There’s no crash, but that’s as much as Alec will be able to say for sure about those three seconds, mostly his mind is still catching up with all that blind terror. His first coherent thought is about how Eliot had a point when he told him not to introduce Parker to the Fast and Furious franchise. They’re Parker’s favorite movies now, and Hardison might regret his decision to share them forever.

And then they already have two new passengers in their backseat and Eliot yelling in their ears that he’s dealt with the sniper. 

And speaking of ears.

“What the hell?” Alec yelps. One of their new passengers is leaning over his seat to put her face way too close for comfort to the side of his head. “ _Personal space_  here.”

“Bring the sniper with you, Spencer!” The woman orders and Hardison blanches. There’s a sudden icy silence from the other side of the com.

“Back away from him!” Parker grits out and Alec can’t help a goofy grin at the taser she’s suddenly holding against the woman’s neck. Forget what he thought, Parker can watch whatever movies she likes, even if they do end up giving Hardison heart palpitations on occasion.

“Root!” Eliot growls from his side of the comslink. “If you touch one hair on their heads I’m going to-”

“Relax Spencer, I’ve switched sides and I’m being told so have you, so we’ll get along great.” But the grin on this Root’s face is manic and Hardison is starting to think this was a bad idea after all.

" _Love_  the taser, I have one just like it.” Root says and leans back in her seat sending Parker an approving, kind of flirty grin.

“Take this.” Parker says to Alec, never taking her burning eyes from Root and pushing in his hand her taser-gun. "Keep an eye on them! Eliot, I’m driving to you.”

Hardison’s grip on Parker’s weapon of choice is awkward but steady, he’s gone through enough lessons by now to know how to use it, even if he’d still rather be holding one of his babies instead.

The next minute in the car is tense and he uses it to finally study the two people they just rescued. Apparently. It’s kind of starting to look like they could have looked after themselves just fine.

The woman, Root, is a scary brunette with a bag full of guns by her feet and eyes that remind him of a shark. The man is older, wearing glasses and with pursed lips, he looks entirely unsatisfied with this entire situation. Now _he_ reminds him of a professor that might actually have needed saving.

The frequent glares Hardison sees the man sending toward the woman though makes him question that too. Nothing about them reads straight. And that doesn’t even bring into the whole thing the fact the woman apparently knows Eliot from his pre-Nate days.

Speaking of; Parker slows down just long enough for Eliot to unceremoniously throw in an unconscious white man and jump in after him, before they’re peeling away from the sidewalk and speeding away again.

“Talk fast, Root. Or I’m throwing you out of the moving car.”

Eliot means it too, Hardison has no problems reading that.

It doesn’t seem to faze the woman, at least if the predatory smile is any indication. “I like the new team, Spencer. You’re definitely moved up your standards since Moreau.”

Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck,  _fuck._

Hardison digs his fingers into his thighs, trying to distract himself from his suddenly shallow breathing. It’s not working, and the sound of the brewing argument becomes background noise to the rapid beat of his heart. There’s pressure over his ears, like he’s underwater and... constricted, he can’t move, he can’t... can’t move. He’s trying to hold his breath. He can’t inhale. He can’t, he’ll drown. Oh god, he’s drowning.

It’s cold and everything is blurry and... and he can’t, he can’t... and there’s a warm hand over his face. And a soft, worried voice saying his name. And then saying it again, and again, and again. The warmth grounds him and her voice brings him back. It always brings him back.

“Parker.” he croaks desperately and then starts breathing again. Too fast, but it’s okay, oxygen filling his lungs is more than okay.

“You’re alright. Alec. You’re alright. He’s not here. You’re alright.” Parker whispers fiercely, he doesn’t know how she can make a whisper fierce, but she does. He loves that about her. He loves everything about her, but right in this moment he loves that the most.

It takes him a few more deep breaths before the rest of the world comes back into focus, and with it; the embarrassment. It’s been years since Damien Moreau. He should be over that name by now, it shouldn’t be such a punch in the gut hearing it.

It shouldn’t still bring him back to that pool. His eyes involuntarily find Eliot’s through the dash mirror and he can’t help a twitch at the guilty look he finds there.

They’ve been through that fight, if you could call it that. With Hardison spitting mad and Eliot taking every angry word like he deserved it. That was the worst part, the way Eliot just let Alec take it out on him. Because Hardison knows that Eliot saved both their lives by not diving after him, even back then logically he understood. But that didn’t really help with the hurt of it.

What would have helped would have been to hear that logic from Eliot. Not because Alec would have listened, because hell no he wouldn’t have, but because he’d have felt less bad about being angry if he didn’t know how much Eliot blamed himself.

And it seems they still have things they need to talk about there. Though ideally not while they’re in a car with two strangers and an unconscious sniper.

He looks back at Parker who’s still looking at him with a concerned frown, she’s also at the moment a tightly bound, coiled spring that’s threatening to go for the brunette’s throat at the next wrong twitch.

“I’m fine Parker. You don’t have to kill her,” he jokes halfheartedly, “it would kinda defeat the whole purpose of saving their lives.”

“Fine. But where are we taking them anyway? This isn’t our city, we don’t have a safe place to stash them while we figure stuff out.”

“Ah yes,” Root says, for the first time sounding abashed, “that’s where things get rather complicated. Sorry Harry, but She says we’re gonna have a few new houseguests.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hardison has a panic attack and flashback of drowning after hearing Damien Moreau's name.
> 
> I didn't really plan to add that, but after dropping Moreau's name there were only two ways Hardison could have reacted. Either making it funny or making it the opposite of funny, and I always wished the writers had touched more on the affect almost drowning (and being buried alive) would have had on Hardison.
> 
> P.S. Comments give fairies their wings. Or more importantly, they give color to a writer's gray day.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characterization is HARD! I did my best though. So I hope you guys think so too.

* * *

 

Root is not afraid of death. Once she hated it though, after Hanna, and then again after Shaw was taken by Samaritan. But now that Sameen is back with them she finds she hates it less, maybe because she feels that when it comes next it will be for her and that is not as terrifying a thought.

But it’s not gonna be today.

The Machine has made sure of that once again through these thieves she sent to save her and Harry. It  _does_  make things rather complicated, slightly messy and admittedly a bit entertaining, however.

She grins to herself as she guides the cute, seething driver trough the ever dwindling shadow map and into an alley for them to take a few minutes to discuss this. Neither Spencer’s, nor Harry’s eyes have left her since her little declaration. Spencer because he’s a professional and she’s a possible threat, - flattering really, - and Harold because of what his child had told her to say.

The car stops and they all pile out silently, splitting into two groups. Root follow’s Harry, while her god’s new assets move the unconscious Samaritan agent to the trunk of the car.

“I’m sorry Miss Groves. But you cannot be serious. The safety of our-” here Harold trails off with a short look at the thieves- “mission is paramount. We cannot afford to put that in jeopardy.”

Root lets out a deep breath. Harold isn’t going to like this.

“It’s too late for that. She called for their help and they answered. They’re not protected anymore.”

“That would imply they were before.” His voice goes cold, the way it always does when he thinks The Machine has slipped the parameters he set out for her when he gave her life. Root no more agrees with those restrictions now than she ever did, but this isn’t the time for that fight, and anyway The Machine hasn’t broken any of his rules today, not… technically.

“They were the last server I added to Samaritan’s nervous system when I broke into Decima Technologies before the devil’s awakening.” Root admits without much shame.

“And who are they  _exactly?_ ” 

“Us,” she admits, “potentially anyway. In the event that we… lost.”

In the event that they all died. The Machine did not see them as interchangeable, but that did not make Her need for a team that would be there to do her legwork, and put roadblocks in Samaritan’s plans, any less severe. A war needs an army. And a general, their officers.

Right now that’s Harold and his four musketeers. But it won’t always be them. If not because of this war, then because of the next one. And even if they get through to the end, The Machine will outlive them all. Root has every intention of insuring that.

“Not fifteen minutes ago you told me she wouldn’t be able to alter her code unless I gave permit.” Harold’s eyes are hard as flint, and hold hers captive, looking for a lie. 

“And that is still true. She activated an emergency protocol. To save us and-”

“And put these people in danger. I’ve taught her this lesson before, my life is not any more important than anyone else’s.”

“And she learned it well, but you forget this means your life,  _our_  lives, are not any  _less_  valuable to her either. She saved us because us being alive is for that greater good you instilled in her. She can’t win this war by herself, not unless you give her the tools, and until you change your mind about that;  _we_  remain all she has to protect the world.” Root’s voice is turning frantic again she knows, but for all the respect she has for Harry, on this they will never agree it seems.

“Hate to interrupt this… fascinating argument, but how ‘bout we get back to the part where we’re supposed to be coming with you,” interrupts the man The Machine tells her is the hacker Alec Hardison, “because gotta tell you, right now? Yeah that’s not happening.”

Root twists her head sideways, for a moment listening to the voice in her ear.

“There are agents at your hotel suite already and others on their way to tear apart the multiple apartments in Portland as we speak. There is no other safe place for you to go. Right now if you do not go with us, you will be dead in less than a day.” She’s bodily slammed against the dirty alley wall a second later. Not unexpected, but she still hisses as the wound in her side left by the graze of the bullet meets the hard surface. Spencer’s hands do not yield, but she feels him ease back somewhat, interesting.

“What have you pulled us into Root? And what exactly is your connection to Northern Lights?“ Root’s eyebrows pull up at the sudden rapid information being relayed to her through the cochlear implant.

Eliot Spencer was being recruited by ISA six years ago. Was told the name and goal of the project. Refused the pitch, but didn’t prove a threat to the program and did not know enough to be a problem. The Machine used the initials of her own classified project to prompt Spencer to trust the message sent to the hacker’s encrypted phone.

“Northern Lights is who we… work for.”

“You would care nothing about national security, Root.” Eliot disagrees. “All you’ve ever cared about is your crazy ideas about-”

Root smiles. She sees it as Spencer figures it out, or at least comes to some approximation of the truth. Root had never been shy about her beliefs on the inevitability of an artificial intelligence. Not even years before she first heard the rumors that led her to The Machine. Truthfully when she had just started out in the business she might have been even less wary about sharing those opinions, it was ever so  _fun_ watching people grow uncomfortable in her presence.

“If that’s true,” Spencer lets go of her and steps back, “why exactly is nowhere safe?”

“Oh you know how things go. You give life to one and another will follow. And kids on a small playground have such trouble getting along.”

“Miss Groves!” Harold grounds out in protest.

Usually Root would be with him on this, but The Machine is making it pretty clear that full disclosure is going to be the only way to go this time.

* * *

“Parker,” Hardison whispers as he watches the unassuming professor-y dude enter a code into a vending machine only to look on wide eyed as a hidden entrance opens up behind it, “you would have told me if we got transported into a cheesy black and white spy movie while I wasn’t looking, right?”

“Yes.” Parker assures him entirely seriously. “We haven’t been.”

They share a quick smile that contains an undercurrent of nervousness and follow the two possibly-spies down into the hidden passageway. It ends up leading them into what looks like an old subway station. It’s illuminated by cool lighting and there’s a background hum of working machinery, the kind Hardison would recognize in his sleep.

A dog barks and is quickly quieted by a command spoken in what sounds German.

“You sure?” his voice rises in pitch at the literal bat cave in front of him.

And then he  _really_  notices the computers, and monitors, and tech parts and is that a homemade supercomputer? Is this for real? Because he changed his mind, he might be in heaven right now.

He feels his fingers starting to itch. Takes one dazed step forward only for Eliot to halt him in place with a hand around his arm.

“Don’t.” Their hitter bites out the first word since telling him and Parker that they need to trust these people for now. Alec doesn’t like the way Eliot’s eyes keep shifting over every corner. He definitely doesn’t like the way he hasn’t answered any one of Hardison’s dozen questions since that cryptic exchange with his old… friend? Acquaintance? Partner?

With the creepy brunette named after a tree part, - no, he corrects himself, his eyes still traversing this com center of a room, - after a tech term.

It makes him pay closer attention to her and so Hardison is observing her as she goes straight for the laptops. There’s a certain ease of competence in her build, a relaxation to her shoulders now that she has a screen in front of her and a keyboard under her fingertips. This is home for her. And he suddenly recognizes her for the hacker she definitely is.

Age of the geek.

She looks over her shoulder at them with a cheerful smile and any camaraderie vanishes, she still gives him the heebie-jeebies. It’s the teeth, her smile feels more like a threat than a welcome.

“I guess we should get some things out of the way first then.” She says, mostly directly to Parker, like she knows who the mastermind of the crew is already. The observation is correct of course, and not something Alec is ever overly bothered by, but this time it does unsettle… this woman knows too much. And Alec is used to being the one who knows everything, being in the dark rankles.

“Don’t you think we should wait for Mr. Reese and Miss Shaw to return first, Miss Groves?” the professor interrupts again. Hardison is starting to get the distinct sense that the man doesn’t want them here and would rather they were told nothing.

“They’re five minutes out and I think there’s no time like the present Harry.” she responds.

“Root.” Eliot growls out again in warning. And Hardison has the same feeling about his friend too. Alec hates secrets, he can never rest until he knows them. He sends Eliot a look he’s pretty sure years of working together will easily translate into exactly that. 

He gets back a pained, aggravated grimace. He knows that one, it’s the inaudible version of  _‘Dammit Hardison’_.

“Let me introduce you all to the father of a god,” and the hacker, Root, looks sideways at the man with the guard dog by his feet, before turning away and towards the subway train cart that’s stacked full of game consoles connected together in what Hardison’s pretty certain is a supercomputer, “and his child.”

And Hardison’s inching backwards from the obviously unstable woman is cut short as a million variables slot into place and he realizes what Root is trying to say. An AI. There’s _no way_ … yeah there have been rumors, but that’s… that’s just not possible.

It might explain a few things, sure, but… well it might explain a lot really. And it’s not like an artificial intelligence is a total pipe dream, but to believe it has actually been  _achieved_? That’s just… that’s… wait-

“You said two.” Hardison interrupts his own trail of thought “before, when you were talking to Eliot, you said there’s more than one.”

“Unfortunately, that is the case, yes.” The man. - the creator of a freaking AI? - says. Can Alec get an autograph or would that be inappropriate?

Okay. So two AIs… ASIs?

On ‘one playground’ were the words Root used before. So two Artificial Super Intelligences that don’t get along. And the other one apparently has ‘agents’ that are as of right now tearing through the team’s life. Which would make this situation a…

“You want us to fight Skynet?”

“Its name is Samaritan, but the analogy is rather apt Mr. Hardison.” the man affirms calmly, if rather unhappily. ”And no, I do not. You are all currently in great danger so we will find a way to help you, but this is not your fight. And I will not be responsible for pulling you into it.”

Great danger. Oh God.

“Nate and Sophie!” Parker exclaims apparently reaching the same conclusion as him. “We have to warn them.”

“No.” Root responds.

“Excuse me?” Parker asks in her terrifying I’m-calm-look-I’m- _smiling_  voice.

“That would be a mistake. The protection over you was broken when you came to save us. But Nathan Ford and Sophie Devereaux are still invisible to Samaritan. And as long as they don’t deviate from their norms it will stay that way. Warning them would actually shine a spotlight on them.”

“I-”

“She will warn us if things change.”

“And we should trust that why exactly? We don’t know any of you.” Hardison puts in his own two cents. Really there’s no way for them to know that they’re being told the truth. Not really, especially if the part about the ASI death match thing is true.

But the woman is suddenly ignoring them as the door behind them opens up and she starts smiling over his shoulder. 

“Sweetie, you’re home.” 

He twists around to be met with the sight of two new arrivals.

“Talk fast, Root.” a short angry looking brunette barks out at the other woman. There’s a tall man standing at her back, but somehow it’s her that reminds him of Eliot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *DUN DUN DUNNN* Hi Shaw ;)


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so I'm rather proud of this chapter. Hope that Shaw and Parker from whose points of views this one is are properly in character. Extra, EXTRA huge thanks to **isagrimorie** who helped me with this one (by reminding me that I had forgotten to add a line or two on what Reese is doing while Shaw is arguing with Root, and a few other details I would have totally missed).

* * *

 

Sameen and Reese are heading toward the car, the shootout done and Fusco off dealing with the cops who are freaking over the channels about a crazy car chase with guns, when her cell rings at an incoming text with a few of the more recognizable notes from The Nutcracker.

' _That isn't even a symphony.'_ Shaw thinks in exasperation but finds her lips pulling into small smile anyway. Though she's unsure when the hell Root had the time to change the sound. She doesn't slow as she opens the text but immediately comes to a standstill as she starts reading.

' _hey hon. ran n2 a prob, harry's safe bt we'll have house guests. got u a gift. meet us Her plce.'_

Irritation blooms inside her chest, displacing any lingering thoughts about 'noise in the system' she might still have been harboring. Root always calls, Shaw guesses it's harder to flirt during all the most inconvenient moments via text message, and yet this time, when she'd really like to yell at her about the content of said message-

 _Guests?_ Seriously?

"Call them back!" Shaw grounds out and throws her cell at John while moving toward the driver's side. Ingrained caution about the best ways to flee a crime scene means she won't be able to drive above speed limit, or even just below it, but Shaw knows how to be least noticeable or memorable and still be sufficient, and she's planning to use that experience fully right now.

She pulls onto the street with a sharp turn, ignoring the still unbuckled John cursing in the passenger seat. She spares him a glance, but he's fine. The calls he's trying to make are all going straight to voicemail however and Shaw clenches her hands on the wheel.

"Nothing?" Shaw asks anyway.

"No." Reese responds, obviously worried.

Shaw kept the safe-house secret for nine months and within days of Shaw's return Root has brought someone there. Unbelievable.

It's a miracle their ragtag team didn't get themselves killed while Sameen was gone. For a couple of geniuses Finch and Root seem to need a lot of supervision, she should have sent Reese after them as soon as he showed up.

She takes another left, and checks the mirror for anything suspicious. It's taking longer than she'd like, making sure they don't have a tail. But maintaining the location of their base of operations secret is paramount, - though apparently not everyone's quite up on proper security protocols, - so she needs to be absolutely sure before she and Reese can think about ditching the car and going the rest of the way on foot.

She pulls a few more maneuvers before she's finally certain there are no Samaritan operatives with eyes on them.

Trusting that the ASI itself sees nothing takes more faith, but in that Shaw has little choice.

Meanwhile John has yet to stop trying to dial Finch and Root. There's been no response. Shaw's not sure if she needs to blame The Machine or its Analog Interface for that, but if asked to bet; she'd put her money on Root.

She can't believe she'd been _missing_ that woman.

Shaw moves to pull the hood over her head; wishing she hadn't left her baseball cap inside the glove compartment of the car Root and Finch drove off in, when her fingers inadvertently brush against the spot behind her ear. The skin there is smooth and untouched but she still flinches upon the contact and then clenches her hand into a fist, seething at this betrayal of her own reflex.

This is reality, not simulation. Samaritan would never have made Root so damn _stupid_.

She ignores the concerned look John sends her and reaches for the door. She keeps her head down, her face as concealed as she can get it with just the hoodie to work with. It should keep Samaritan from identifying her even if The Machine's safeguards fail.

"Shaw-" Reese starts, but the glare Shaw responds with silences him, at least for the moment. She knows she's going to eventually need to read Reese in on what happened while she was missing, she's too much of a loose cannon like this and she knows it.

But right now isn't the time.

They leave the car on the sidewalk and pick up their pace, Shaw two steps behind John, unwilling to take the chance on being wrong about her escape after all. As long as Reese knows where they're going, Sameen knows to trust reality.

All the while she's calculating probabilities herself, trying to guess what they'll find when they reach the command center.

Not someone any of them know, or Root would have mentioned their identities, but someone that can still apparently be trusted. The only conclusion that makes sense is that this is The Machine's play.

But that opens up a whole _other_ can of worms.

* * *

"Sweetie, you're home."

What they find is Finch with Bear by his side, Root by the monitors and three people Shaw's never seen before.

The first one, an overwhelmed looking black man in his early thirties, is turning around to face them with a startled sort of motion. He's in shape but without any situational awareness to speak of so she discards him as a threat for now. The other is an attractive blonde woman around her height who looks like she's balancing on the tip of a blade ready to attack or run at a moments notice, there was no flinch from her though and her eyes once Shaw meets them are calm and measuring.

The third person is somewhere around Reese's age, white, broad shouldered and with a strain to his back that speaks of military training, though the sharp, hungry eyes assessing them back speak of something specialized. Everything else about his appearance tells her he's not active… at least not within the government structure; he's still definitely in the game.

He was already facing Shaw and Reese when they entered, both the exit and everyone in the room within line of sight and his weight perfectly balanced in a way that hinted at being ready to go in any direction within a heartbeat. Right now however he's moving to place himself between them and the other two strangers.

If this turns into a fight he's her first target. She makes special note of the slight stiffness of movement from his left shoulder. Old injury that's still troubling him, though she can see him trying to hide it. If need be, she knows where to aim her hits.

But it's not a fight quite  _yet_.

"Talk fast, Root." Shaw addresses the grinning woman sharply.

Root's smile only widens at the implied threat in Shaw's voice and she inwardly groans at the sudden suggestive look in Root's eyes.

"And keep your thoughts about shapes to yourself." Shaw quickly adds, interrupting whatever it is that was about to come out of Roots mouth.

The hacker pouts but complies with a shrug.

"Me and Harry almost got taken out by a sniper. This is the team of the do-gooder thieves The Machine recruited to save us."

Well that's new.

Shaw senses Reese's agitation grow with the revelation about a shooter, and doesn't need to look at him to know his worrywart eyes are probably already zeroing in on Harold to make sure there's not any hairs out of place.

"And they're here because?"

"Because apparently by saving them we pissed off an evil robot overlord and now we're in a Spy-Fi protective custody," interrupts the sharp eyed blonde woman.

"Perfect use of Spy-Fi, babe." Shaw hears the younger man whisper and then go for a fist-bump with her.

She's about to continue her interrogation, but then she finally takes notice of the stiffness in _Root's_ form, the way she's pressing her hand over her side and the signs of perspiration on her face, the paleness to her cheeks. And everything else flees her mind. That is _not_ an old injury.

"You've been shot." Shaw accuses, something hollow gnawing in her gut.

"It's okay, Sameen. Just a flesh wound." Root soothes, but then belies her words by blinking rapidly and almost losing her balance.

Shaw springs forward to catch her, but Root steadies herself just as Finch grabs her by the elbow and leads her to a chair. By the time Root has sat down Shaw is already pushing her leather jacket aside and rolling up the shirt underneath to get at the wound. Shaw's breathing was steady the whole time, but something still eases when she concludes that Root isn't wrong. It's more a graze than anything else, but it's still been bleeding for a while and Shaw needs to take care of it right now.

She spares a look for the three thieves, but then proceeds to ignore them, trusting Reese and Bear to keep their guards up.

"You're an idiot." Shaw hisses, her hands working on autopilot with the materials from the first aid kit that Finch just brought over. "Why didn't you take care of it as soon as you got here?"

"But you're so much better at it." Root practically hums "And you know I love it when we play doctor."

Shaw barely pays attention to Finch rapidly retreating to a safer distance.

"This isn't over." Shaw changes direction, choosing to ignore Root's last comment. "As soon as I take care of this you're going to tell me why you didn't answer when we were trying to call you."

"Sure sweetie." Root nods, her eyes closing. Shaw digs her fingers into the wound in reply, jarring Root back to full consciousness.

"Keep your eyes open!" She commands and the tries to figure out something that'll hold Root's attention. "And why the hell do I have the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy on my phone?"

Root smirks and Shaw doesn't know if she should be relieved or annoyed.

"So I'd get to hear you say; Sugar Plum Fairy."

Annoyed it is.

* * *

Parker observes these people closely and finds herself relaxing the more she sees. They care about each other, that is becoming increasingly more clear by the minute. Parker understands family, not the kind she's seen in Christmas movies - the ones that used to fill her chest with painful confusion and _want_ , - but the kind she herself has found. And these people are a family like that.

Which does more to make Parker trust their intentions, than words ever could have.

And they have a dog. Which isn't exactly relevant as such, it's just… he looks very huggable.

Out of an old habit she considers what Nate would do, but then discards it right away. Nate would piss them off to see what they'd do, or maybe just because he felt like it. Drunk Nate would have been mean about it, and sober Nate would have been  _really_ mean about it. She thinks under the circumstances it's a good thing Nate's not here, - not even Sophie's Nate who's all around more fun.

So the real question she should ask herself would be _'what would Parker do?'_ and that one's easier, her own mind she knows like she knows the sound of tumbling locks going 'click'.

' _Parker would try to see the best in people the way Alec does without thought.' 'Parker would have her eyes open, because trust isn't unconditional until it's family, and these people aren't_ hers _.' 'Parker would trust her team to have her back and work this job like they work any other con.'_

Except this time they're gonna con an evil robot.

Which sounds fun. Not jumping off a skyscraper _'fun'_ , but still.

Of course to con a robot she needs to know how it thinks. Which means that if they want do this they need to know more about it, and it does sound like doing this would be the 'Right Thing To Do'.

Once, that wouldn't have meant much, now it means everything.

Parker guesses this means that she's decided. She just needs to make sure Alec and Eliot are on the same page as her.

She looks toward Hardison. He's barely containing himself as it is, sending longing looks toward the subway car she's pretty sure houses the brain of the good robot. And once in a while glancing slightly nervously towards the former employee of Moreau's who is being tended to by her angry girlfriend.

Parker's fingers inadvertently twitch for her taser.

But she contains herself, reminds herself that the woman named Root couldn't have known that saying that name would trigger Hardison's panic attack. Of course she hasn't said sorry yet either and that rather takes away the bigger part of Parker's already rather hesitant goodwill.

But anyway, Alec's already looking back toward the game consoles.

Parker's pretty sure he's feeling like she would if someone put in front of her an 'unbreakable' safe - ' _Pffffft.'_ \- and then told her she wasn't allowed to try to crack it.

She catches his eye and raises her eyebrow in question. His shoulder lifts in a shrug, but there's a bright spark in his eyes, like he's already steps ahead and only just barely managing to reign in his excitement.

Parker gives a subtle nod and then they both turn their eyes on Eliot. He's already waiting to catch their gazes with a resigned sort of air about him, hands over chest and mouth in a tight line. She knows he'd prefer to keep them out of it and just deal with it himself. Tough luck for him, that's not how this family works.

They're gonna do this.

Steal the world from under the feet of a robot. Parker's rather looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? I'm open to it alllllll.


End file.
